


BitterSweet

by zomboi



Series: BitterSweet [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Coffee Shop, Coffeeshop AU, F/F, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zomboi/pseuds/zomboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon is a snarky narcissist actor obsessed with playing roles thats anyone but himself. After a stubborn barista, MacCready, working at the best cofee shop to attract the worst kind of attention tells Deacon no for the first time Deacon finds himself wanting more of Mac while trying to juggle the attention and career that is the small home of Boston and all while having his own world shatter around him to realize maybe just maybe it isn't about him.... Nah!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Rocket

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Please critique! This is my first story in like 2 years! I don't write and I'm new to this fandom,writing, and this website! Hope to hear feedback and make this story longer. Gosh /);0;)/ It's bad im sorry but practice makes perfect!

MacCready was wiping counters down in his coffee stained uniform. He had worked his ass off for what felt like decades in his brown apron to get this promotion as Barista at a small yet highly popular Coffee shop, Red Rocket. The red title in neon shined over him from 6 am to 10. He felt as if he might as well owned the place as a second home, as his sweat and blood went into the floors and the steel counters where he could make the hottest drinks for a group of 10 under five minutes. He was originally in it for the cash but he ended up being a natural talent for customer after customer. His nimble hands was anything but clumsy and his speed was only a cherry on top for his boss to be convinced he was worthy of manager one day. That manager being Piper.

"Piper don't tell me you're leaving me here to close up. " MacCready begged his boss.

She was as headstrong as a bull to take care of the peoples needs and discipline the complaints. She owned the place with dignity as she published a small local magazine next to the huge best selling ones that had margins that could crush both of their yearly salaries combined.

"So this means you trust me enough to almost run this place huh?" MacCready raised his chin and gave a smirk towards Piper whom was putting on her red coat, forest green scarf and had finished folding her apron.

Piper never quit when it came to a horrible customers let alone MacCready's whining and child nature. MacCready respected her enough to know that he didn't want to replace her anytime soon as a true manager but dedicated his time being by her side as a coworker and an understanding friend when it came to being part retail and part manager. They had no intentions of quitting anytime soon if Piper's dreams of working under the big magazine companies came true or if MacCready was accepted to the Gunners military, both awaiting letters to change the rest of their lives. But for now they let Red Rocket do the rest of their story telling.

"Never gonna happen MacCready and over my dead body so until that happens for now I trust you can close up in an hour or two. Besides, work is slow and you wouldn't let a soul raid this place for how many caps in the bank again?"

"Oh please. I'd let them do it for a Nuka Cola " MacCready raised his brows with a smile.

"Right..." she tightened her scarf and plopped her hat that matched her coat to what seemed her only outside outfit for any season. It must make her feel like a memorable role in the journalist society. 

"Goodnight R.J." The doors of the back room café clicked shut and MacCready was all alone.

"I hate it when she calls me that..."

The lights were dimming,in the mall, the people were slowly fading from view, therefore the orders were truly on the slow pace. MacCready wondered what Piper was writing about when he had less than ten minutes to close up.

The mall was darkening now and other retail employees nodded to MacCready as they left the building . MacCready poked his head out between the space of the cash register and the magazine rack that were the opening of letting people order. Silence. It had seemed that only ghosts now were roaming the book shelves, but he immediately shivered the thought off as he hated the thought of things unworldly. He preferred they stayed in his favorite action comic adventures to which on break he would hog all to himself until Piper had to snoop him out as usual.

"That's all she wrote!" He clapped his hands and flipped the open sign to closed side and took out a cigarette and flipped his lighter open.

Flicking it two times before stopping himself swearing to a "Goshdarnit" from a "Godammit". Finally the third flick he let the light warm his filthy coffee mudded fingers and letting the dynamic light bring emphasis of the coffee bean grains under his nails. He put his cigarette between his brew stained rotten teeth and let the lighters flame overcome the coffee aroma. There was a strange reflection in the front of him. The flame's light bounced off a thick coat in front of him and he looked up in a jolt.

"Holy shi- I mean shoot!"

"So R.J stands for... Rocket Joes! Get it? Because the coffee..."

A man covered head to toe in thick garments. A baby blue scarf around his mouth and thick black shades on his eyes. What made it even creepier of him standing in the dark was his black thick coat. An expensive looking duffle coat went to his knees and its darkness matches his dark combed up pompadour hair do. He wore just as black converse and above that were jeans that were just as blue as his scarf.

MacCready had so much to scream at this man. But this wasn't the first customer to linger after hours for his sake. MacCready expected him to be caught by the security guard for just being in arms lengths but nothing tackled this thug after five seconds.

"Don't think I won't call security. I'm not intimidated by the get up so if you're expecting me to wrap the cash register in a neat bow I suggest you kindly leave...sir." MacCready blew his smoke at the mystery threat. He had some serious balls to try to mug someone who worked in retail from day to day. He'd kick this guys ass if he had too. But Maccready wondered if it was a prank...

"What?! I'm not here to take. I'm here to give! My order that is and my cash,"

The man wafted away the smoke as MacCready slid his hands under the counter for a bat to swat him with but stopped mid movement and took his hands up to slam the counter.

"Hmm..Unless you think I'm one of those people who uses their fame to get free stuff. What! I won't complain-"

"Who do think you are!? Is this serious? First you break into Red Rocket, try to intimidate me...no. Please..leave before your strange understanding of how to live between opening hours of a public area becomes headline in our magazines."

MacCready sternly gritted as his rotten teeth were clenched and he had a piercing gaze as if he was an intimidating animal but the stranger wasn't having any of it.

"As if I'm not already in headlines enough." The stranger sighed as he looked away from MacCready ,whom heart was starting to race. He had questions but this was out of the most bizarre customer outlandish acts he had to face. The covered stranger squinted under his shades at the menu under the Red Rocket sign, completely ignoring Maccready who was reaching for the phone.

"By the way I didn't break in. I was here the entire time. You just seem to have rudely ignored me. Ah well it's not like I wanted you to actually notice me. Or anyone to notice me in that matter,"

MacCready looked away from the phone as he got to dial only half the mall security phone number. He actually felt like this might not be a prank but a horrible misunderstanding, feeling guilty he put the phone away from his ears and covered it with one hand but not wanting to give the delusional stranger one hundred percent of his attention.

"Sooo.. you smell like you prefer bitter and black... BUT not all the way I can't put my tongue on it. Maybe I'll go for a frappacino-"

"Yeah well why don't you order when we are open." MacCready spat back emphasizing every vowel through clenched rotted teeth toward the covered man. He wanted him to leave nonetheless even if he was in the wrong. Yes they were open for less than a handful of minutes but honestly only certain people pull of this stunt. He'd make it up to him when he was actually working and there was no harm in that.

"Someone may recognize me, besides I heard this place was the best for miles. You're really gonna reject someone who waited hours to get here and hours to get their order."

"Yes."

They both stood in silence eye to eye.

MacCready only slightly sympathized but wouldn't break Piper's rules for someone bizarrely reserved and superficial.

"You asked for it. Now I'm really gonna pull a out my secret weapon kiddo," Said the silhouette. His shades made him impossible to read. 

MacCready's heart was at max racing. There is no way he was going to have a casual conversation and then get stabbed to death by some cocky creep. He put his hands behind his apron slowly to untie then plan to throw it at the threat in time to his advantage to fight or flight. But not before he had proof that the enigmatic man who was reaching for his face was actually reaching to his scarf and not a misleading distraction to pull out something deadly enough. 

"Tell me _now_ about your thoughts on making.. A frappacino!" The blue scarf was whipped off in a single tug and a single button let its self loosen free and showed more face finally than ever.

"...Uh yeah.." Macready broke the silence again and placed both lips puckered inside his mouth and sucked his gut in place from trying not to laugh at such a anti climactic release to his anxiety.

"Look I know you're speechless and I wouldn't say this a get out of jail free card BUT-"

"My god this is really pathetic. " MacCready chuckled but looked away quickly for he had said that a bit too quick and loud for his liking. Honestly he was starting to feel bad for this narcissist but not as much as annoyed. He thought about sucker punching him across the counter & shoving him out the door. This isn't the first customer that made his day that he couldn't handle.

"Hey you're not the first hysteric reaction but I'd appreciate it if we moved on."

"Sure we can take this outside!" MacCready gestured to the door.

"Thats.. What I meant." He blatantly lied unsmoothly.

 Oh god you're still expecting me to do my job aren't you."

"Well seeing as I am "One of the most influential and social heroes of 'The Commonwealth" I wouldn't blame you if you had to take a breath after Ive taken it away!"

MacCready placed his hands together and pressed both thumbs onto his face and took a deep breath. Just one punch. Just one.

"Sir-"

  
"Deacon. Its obviously Deacon."

  
MacCready squinted at the face, trying to see through clearly hoping to understand the correction. Nothing came to him.

Deacon gestured at himself and whipped his head to MacCready in worriment.  
MacCready started to feel this shame creep up on him. Was this narcissist a compulsive liar or perhaps it was a bragging social media star? Either way MacCready had run dry on patience. The joke or whatever humor there was to the situation started getting awkward.

Deacon put both hands up and fingers spread out in a jolt. "Wait here! I'll prove it!"

Deacon hummed and stammered as he turned around and ran to the bookshelf. MacCready had no idea he was making a sleepy and disgusted looking face as he actually waited for Deacon.

"Look, seeing as your not going away how about I just get you a quick cup of coffee and we'll both leave!" MacCready started to making a simple cup as Deacon came hurrying back with a handful and slammed the few magazines and an entire hardcover book that seemed thick enough to carry in at least two hundred pages.

"Oh god," MacCready moved his eyes away from the cup but still continued to brew.

"You're not gonna hold me hostage to read the news are you?" MacCready said in a shaky voice.

MacCready slowed down finishing Deacon's hot fresh coffee. He didn't put anything else in their,really. Hoping that he gave him the impression that the coffee was lacking and that his personal preference came to a close that it wasn't worth coming back for.

But, he was bewildered that Deacon wasn't lying. At least not entirely. His face was on the collage that was the The Institute tabloids cover. A more beautiful and prestine magazine that dominated Piper's self published "The Synthetic Truth" which had its dedication to tarnish The Institute business. 

Mac never bothered to read them because he honestly didn't find the time and didn't care. Piper's works were more at ease to the peoples hearts and he had guiltily fallen asleep under it from time to time. 

But celebrities were people just like him except with existential crisis with media and no privacy. But even so all that Deacon wanted was to be invisible at times more and more the closer he felt to normal. To something less being told where to be and what to do. Whatever normal was anymore for that matter or what the people said in magazines with his face on the cover. That was his normal. Life was far from normal though to compare with MacCready's life style. MacCready had nothing to brag on. He didn't care for attention to himself either. Always doing his job for whatever caps could compel. And they were the strongest thing in his life to adhere to.

When there was celebrity drama he would skim it and later try to find Grognak Comic strips. Celebrity tabloids were his job to organize and also sell but he never took interest in reading every page of the merchandise he sold. Pipers magazine was filled with hard facts and in fact was the only small print he would ever advertise publicly... If Piper wasn't the only real friend he could brag to.

He just didn't get how people could spend their life obsessing over other peoples existence. He hated it. Almost.


	2. Like Waldo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deacon develops feelings ever so slowly. Becoming human is an emberassing exhausting thing! Who do people think they are now an days? Being so hypnotizing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks lisebean for giving my the thumbs up. I know im awkward and id hate to make anyone read my fics by force so if you have the time like i said give an ol critique and comment! Bwagh bye!

"Y'know I'm not a complete idiot." MacCready had his arms crossed.

MacCready and Deacon sat across from each other at the round, wooden, and small table. It was chipped and initials were scratched in place to place but the coffee ring stains dominated on top all over. It felt like it wasn't cleaned for some time. It glorified Deacon more of being out of place than anything. Deacon, as tired and slouched as he was with his shades back on, was dressed with clothing so different that the disguise was it's own stand out by the oddness. He looked too expensive to be at a place like Red Rocket.

"Ah, you got me!" Deacon raised his hands and shoulders and let them drop back on the table without a care. 

"Albeit, getting me to show the truth... isn't easy. Although next time I'll make it not so easy," Deacon looked down and rotated his coffee cup ever so gently with only his thumbs and middle fingers.

"Not everyone gets to be this close." Deacon finally let out.

The coffee tasted like MacCready's attitude towards Deacon. Bitter and almost unwelcoming with harsh heat overdone. But Deacon took it all in regardless. Letting it not get to him and finding himself recognizing the good. He did the same with reading the body language of MacCready, whom was leaned in closer, resting his elbows on the table along with holding his own hands rubbing his callused thumbs together over and over.

MacCready had no idea Deacon wasn't making eye contact like he was. Taking it all in.

"What kind of celebrity just doesn't order someone else to deliver his own crap back to them."

"If you want it done right you gotta do it yourself." Deacon took another sip, despite MacCready's efforts to make it as unfit to like. 

MacCready grudgingly agreed to himself as he scratched his neck. "Don't think this is an everyday thing! Celebrity or not, you can't just expect favors done while hiding in the shadows. The world isn't gonna wait for your caps like I did, it doesn't revolve around you. Get in line like everyone else so people like me can go home." He had hoped he got his point across. Deacon seemed unfazed and stayed static in his seat.

"Isn't making coffee your everyday thing though?" He inquired with a single raised eyebrow. "I don't understand...your job is literally to complete my favors. I actually gave you a lot of caps for this coffee, which tastes like it has depression or my exes griping."

MacCready growled. "That's not the point!"

Deacon kept calm as MacCready's voice raised. Deacon turned away with a dramatic exasperated sigh.

"Then what is? More caps? I know what drives everyone so just admit it."

"Ok, it's for you to go! And myself. But not before you learn a damn lesson-"

"I couldn't agree more." Said a low a gravely voice. Suddenly there stood behind Deacon, Nick Valentine. 

"Dam- Darn it Nick! You scared me..." MacCready sighed.

Deacon looked up to check who this Nick was. He wasn't out of shape like the cops he sneaked by easily. In fact the only thing unhealthy about him was the cigarette dying out between his lips. His hat kept his eyes covered in shadow but the rest of his face and neck that was seen and what was left was not particularly ugly either. Just maybe aged by the exhaustion of being the best by the longest time. It was obvious he looked more important than the cops circling the stores. With a bigger and different badge clipped to his belt having your eyes also trail to the gun holster with a gorgeous intimidating pistol. Not like the ones you see people carry now a days, which were put together with wood parts and dumpster screws. 

Oh shit. Deacon thought. He worried this was the end and his fears would come true in being caught, having his career flush down the toilet before his eyes. He can't get arrested here, let alone cause attention to himself.

"No friends after hours R.J. We've been through this...Don't worry I won't tell Piper. We both know she's the boss of this place and I'm not gonna stress her out more than you already do, letting in strangers in her business."

Deacon was trying to avoid showing the sweat bead off his face. MacCready was clenching his teeth trying not to backtalk as his rage filled.

"He isn't my friend-"

Nick was one hundred percent distracted and found himself distracted over Deacon. His out of place look had dragged in attention.

"You actually look like someone I've seen before. It's on the tip of my tongue." Nick blew smoke and towered over Deacon.

Deacon put the cheap cup to his face and shrugged. He changed his voice to a deep western accent.

"Gee partner you got me all mixed up with someone else." Deacon looked at MacCready and MacCready just mouthed "what" at the situation. Deacon hated this. 

He had never felt this screwed over so fast. He had wished MacCready could shoo him off or that he could fade into thin air. Maybe even bring MacCready if he needed to bolt out the building...

Valentine leaned off and put the cigarette back between his lips, or what was left.

"Well then...I guess that's too bad." Nick looked from Deacon to MacCready back at Deacon.

"Because now guess what you've both made me do, no hard feelings of course."

"What?" Both Deacon and MacCready chimed at the same time.

 

"And stay out, the both of you!" Nick shoved them out the entrance of Red Rocket and before going back into the darkness of the store he flicked the cigarette straight down and smothered his shoe on top of it. The sun setting had matched the dying sparks under his black shoes. 

Deacon rubbed his shoulders where Nick had gripped and MacCready had adjusted his hat. Deacon sighed in relief but was interrupted with a punch thrown in his ribs. Deacon gasped and hunched over.

"You could have gotten me in so much trouble with my boss!" 

MacCready took off his hat and rubbed his dirty fingers into his hair and put it back. He was pacing and turning a few steps across Deacon.

"What was that..bull you pulled off! You tell me you're the most famous in The Commonwealth but no one in there could recognize you, I mean back there you lied through your teeth to actual authority! Amazing as that was... I don't understand you." MacCready went from yelling to admitting looking away. He didn't want to show his face and give Deacon the pleasure of him finding it interesting he aloofed the authority.

"Why?! And who are you really?" 

Deacon had composed himself and coughed. "Knew you were impressed. Well Iv'e shown too much... So boohoo for you."

As Deacon finished a beautiful car rolled up from the corner and beeped for him. 

MacCready was in awe. Deacon looked at the vehicle and looked at Mac whom was lost at words. "Don't give up R.J.," Deacon had patted MacCready's cheek twice and went over to the open door of the backseat. "If you can't find me just look in the magazines that you sell everyday. I'll be first in a lot of things. Can't miss it. It'll be like a "Where's Waldo" book! Except for the blind. "

Before entering he poured what was left of the coffee and slid inside. He rolled down the windows. "Y'know if you went home with me you couldn't forget me then." 

"Sure! I love getting in strangers black cars and black tinted windows in empty parking lots!"

"You have to admit, it all means something. I mean, unless you don't believe in coincidences." 

MacCready grunted. He didn't want to admit it but all of the proof wasn't something he'd like to dwell on. It was starting to grow on him though. He couldn't help himself a lot of the time in believing in things. Deacon's soft but uncanny nature sure wasn't helping him.

"Is that all?"

"That's all." 

Deacon dropped his coffee cup, letting it roll in a curve a couple inches from MacCready. And with that Deacon was gone under the sleek reflective window and the car drove off from the property and out of sight.

"Good riddance." MacCready kicked the cup but had spotted writing on it. He went and picked it back up. There was in fact Deacon's scribbling around it. He was nervous as he turned it. 

"His real name..?" MacCready bit his lip and thought in antipation.

"You can't trust everyone."

MacCready crushed the cup in his grip and shoved it in the nearest trash bin. 

 

\--

Deacon doesn't sleep. He wonders if going back is worth the risk of getting caught but he cant help having the urge to see Maccready again. He lays in bed diagonally having the sheets snake aroud his bare legs and his shirt coiled to his breasts. The moment replays again and again. The feeling of being vulnerable and revealing himself only to get what he not wanted but deserved. It left a bad taste in his memory but he wanted to keep going. He pawed at his crotch and adjusted his body. His cock was twitching, his mind dwelled at the look of Maccready's entire back to his arms. His sleeves rolled up to prevent staining so showing his fit arms under the café lights. Undressing him in his head. Deacon lost discipline and used his fingers to slide in his boxers.

Maccready didn't take the usual response and Deacon admired that too much. When someone breaks the barrier ever so rarely by putting him in his place , stripping his entire career and seeing him as human and equal that deserves nothing much but punishment he always chuckles in astonishment to himself, finding himself to taken aback for words. But to never show it. Too adapted in his lies to admit anything.  
Deacons usual sarcastic remarks were for people to not get too close but Maccready refreshed Deacon with feelings of trying to level up to him while his entire world was bowing down. 

The realization was kicking in. He wanted MacCready for himself.

He wanted to stay to talk rather than stalk more than anything. He knew he could have ruined everything for himself. He felt like for every minute passing by was just wasted time, borrowed time. 

Deacon mentally punished himself as he bit into his bottom lip and tugged it in his mouth. Putting his unbusy hand over his face and the other starting to working in a pumping motion after rubbing the tip ever so gently. He tugged harshly his underwear down so his ass was bare.  
 Deacon whispered MacCready's name. Softly but then indulged and moaned it with lingering breaths and tug to his dick.  
His brain assaulted him again with Maccready's image.

Maccready's blue eyes looking at him with every unique feeling arising in them. A wave of knots into his stomach arose.  
Deacon grabs his pillow and smothers his face in punishment. He was starting to loose control and go faster. He for felt heat to his face. Trying to excuse the pillows warmth for his blushing face of shame.  
Deacon groaned and shifted his ass up high from the bed. His body begging him to release. His stomach was coiling up and he couldn't keep it in for much longer. 

He was fucking his hand as he peeked under his pillow. Biting into his lip and confidently humming .Imagining every favorite thing about MacCready. He breathes in with a huffed chest and outwards a single heavy sigh. Deacon came on his chest and let it trailed around his leg. He let go of his lip and gave a wide smirk and left his cock to ease off. Afterwords he stayed silent to himself in the dark with nothing but his small pantings. Minutes pass before his chest tightens and his brain screams "You blew it!". Deacon lifted his legs up from his bed a feet above and smiled a hate filled smile as he shoved his palms into his eyes.

Deacon grabs his blanket and pulls it to his chin. He places his pillow back under him in a squeeze and rolls on his side, now ever so tangled to fake the embrace of someone so he could fall asleep and wash away the mistakes he made to restart all over tomorrow.


	3. Knight and Shining Narcissist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When MacCready isn't relying on Piper he has to defend himself in the occasional weirdest circumstances.

MacCready fumbles with his keys as he walked towards the Red Rockets metallic backdoor. The threatening clouds rumbled and lightly sprinkled on MacCready's neck and into the café's back alley. The metal plated door clicked open and he swung open with a loud creek, opening to a contrasting second home from the outside. The sweet and familiar smell was overpowering. The moment would give shivers to those whom had taken in the first time, MacCready was unfazed to the heavenly smells of sugars and flavors. Bright lights flooded the café and the scent of coffees in his nose. Cheery music made residency and hummed in the background, being drowned by the tens of customers having light chattering. At most people kept their distance from each other unless adding to the line for a fresh serving. The windows were sprayed with rain now starting to fall heavier. It called for eyes to look upon its thunder. MacCready rubbed his knuckles with his palms. He knew he was late.

The gloom of the outside world was closing behind MacCready and with the second creek Piper had swirled her entire body in a gasp.

"R.J.! I thought you were going to be so late the rad roaches would come out and start serving."

"Yeah I'm really sorry bout that... I know I know, I've been late but I'm here now and I will be on top-" MacCready placed his apron neck string on and started fastening the back string as Piper waved in protest.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Just hand over the next five orders. It's going to get hectic until the rain backs off and I don't need strangers scolding me for the cold brew, not that that has really stopped me and my business." Piper slid two cups across the counter and gave the customer a tireless cheesy smile and repeated anthem of "Thank you, come again!".

MacCready sighed in relief and nodded, heading towards the machinery.  
"You got It, boss."

Throughout the day the rain had gotten worse then lightened but never stopped. The same pace for customers coming and going.

MacCready would time from time take a peek from the shadow under his cap, in hopes to catch Deacon. Having the thought taunt him and come back up to swallow his thoughts on passing hours every time he thought he saw or heard someone like him.Piper caught drift of him standing on his toes every time someone left that made long enough eye contact with him.

The day was finishing and both were exhausted standing and mentally dealing with all types of people. The café was back to dying out with less than a handful, lounging till closing hours.

Noticing how antsy and curious he was behaving, Piper laid her palm on MacCready's shoulder.

"What's with the "everyone's a suspect" motion Mac? You maybe lookin' for a date?" Piper stepped back with a smile and laid against the counters, leaning in towards MacCready, dusted with coffee grain and spills she made from sweeteners.

"It's not like that!

"Oh really? And the whole half body teetering off my countertops is all about reaching for more hospitality?"

"Alright alright...If I explained how weird I was acting though... you wouldn't believe me!" MacCready raised his arms in resentment and turned away. Feeling already regret bringing up the idea of Deacon on his mind. He felt shy when it came to talking about someone on his mind, always trying to smudge it away but Deacon had caged him into anxiety thoughts and needed answers. MacCready gave in. He sighed and looked into Piper's eyes.

"C'mon, we've come together this far, you can spill the beans to the better paparazzi." Piper had made a shabby curtsy gesture while looking back into MacCready.

"Who's Deacon?"

Piper gave a look like MacCready told her the end of the world was gonna happen again.

"What! Why does everyone worship this guy and give me looks when I have no idea...Nevermind!"

"You are such a..dad! Get with the times Mac!"

"I'm pretty well in my own thanks, sorry I asked."

"No No No! I'm sorry for laughing! OK... I'll explain." She pulled MacCready back in by his arm, as he lazily protested throwing his arms in reaching up to the sunrays and the visible dust.

 

MacCready sits on the counter ready. Skeptical faced but silent. Piper wiggled herself against the counters in preparing to remind MacCready. 

"He's probably only dating the prettiest people of the commonwealth...maybe. The guys an enigma. Basically the most dramatic artist of our time. There is even rumors that his films have stopped wars or that he is actually a spy for an organization and that his films are just a façade. Either way everyone wants in on his James Bond life."

"Seems more of wannabe to me."

"Oh yeah? Why? You've meet him before?"

"Maybe I have!"

"Ok, now I know you're just not in your own time," Piper drawled, slowly shaking her own head. "no one's seen him face to face. "

"Then how is he so famous if he is so underground."

"That's the enigma about him." Piper looked up in a daydreaming and peaceful manner. Her tone broke to a relaxed and disbelief one. "Mans a mystery, that more people he rejects of his identity the more people dig into him and he grows. I can only imagine that less than a handful of people he personally knows, know the real truth about him... I'm one of the many "fans" that have tried to get an interview. I can only inform the public of so much and be believed by little when anything is about him. "

MacCready stroked his chin with his index finger and thumb. Maybe it was just a prank...A rare sighting in all too common place.

"Does this guy take it upon himself to show up in public?" MacCready added.

"It's not unheard of. I guess it's common for people like him to keep people like us on our toes. Y'know, it distracts us from the reality that is struggling just to survive. Hope comes in different forms and I have to be the one to deliver it. Even if he is a "no comment guy", people need to be and want to be informed of "what's next?". It gets a lot harder when The Institute is the pinnacle of fame but is as clear as..well Deacon."

The Institute magazine really was the plateau of curiosity and the hottest heartbreaks mixed in with cheery commentary of tomorrow's stories. Piper claimed to be rivals but the Institute was on a whole other level of information, nonetheless MacCready would avoid bursting Piper's dreams at all costs. It was less of "truth" and more "look at this shiny thing", as Piper would claim. She would at times irk people about how their interests are all play and no truth. And if it wasn't for the coffee he was sure some settlers would stop coming.

MacCready would always defend Pipers theories though, as far fetched as he even perceived them, he owed her that much.

"Why do you ask now? Since when did you care about who's dating who and the life of celebrity truth." Piper put her hand on her hip and gave MacCready a confused sneer.

"I...just.. before I locked up, some people were acting... Not like people." MacCready thought of Deacon's smirk and he shook himself off the counters.

"Did a feral ghoul wonder into your brain or something there?"

"I rather that than a narcissist into my life."

"Yeah, well, the customer is always right."

"Until they aren't!" MacCready declared.

"Not with that attitude, R.J."

MacCready grunted and threw his arms up. "Fire me, would you?"

"I'd love to but it's your turn to pay rent and scrub the toilets."

"Would you look at the time!?"

\--

It was the end of the day. MacCready had locked both doors of the café. The backdoor being the last, where he chose to leave out. The rain had slowly given in its harsh slamming, ruthlessly against the trash in the alley and the café glass windows. He had turned and looked around. Slowly letting his hands drift away from the café doors, he thought he heard something...or _someone?_

MacCready grunted out a cough and ignored the feeling of eyes watching him. Home is where he wanted to be and he felt his tired feet and wrists wanting to crash under the sore pressures of the last minutes everyday task.

Again. MacCready whipped around. He was sure this time it was a footstep. Possibly messing up trying to be behind him, but even so he couldn't identify where or what.

MacCready made a bitter face, furrowing his brows and trying not to allow himself to get ahead of himself. He had a small battle with his mind that if he should call out in the rain or leave. He wasn't even sure what he was supposed to call out.

"Alright, come out!" MacCready firmly commanded. He wondered if he should investigate but he urged himself at the same time that it was nothing. 

The smallest rad roach had squeezed out and fluttered back onto a wall, now free. MacCready looked away in an unimpressed motion and face. His guard down.

There was a rusty dagger suddenly to his neck. A foul smell had pressed against his back and the grimy sneer of a smoker voice slugged it's way into MacCready's ear. "Don't be stupid!"

MacCready grabbed at the raider's arm and ripped it's grasp from his neck but the raider had shouted something and used force to shove him against the café door. The door banged an echo in response and surprised MacCready on it's cold metallic touch, worsening his mood.

"I said- what did I fucking say!"

"Godammit!" 

The blade was pressing onto his skin, he was being consumed in fear. Thinking about the blade, his pressing palm against the dirtier fist of the raider, and confusing the urge to fight or flight.

"I don't have anything!" He lied in a spit, through his rotten teeth. He had a weapon of his own in his pocket, some caps, and what he had left to remember his son by.

"Then I guess your a waste for the next one, I'll be doing the world a favor-"

The raider was kneed in the face. It was a blur to the Raider but MacCready had his adrenaline pumping, as if everything slowed down.

The Raider fell to the ground and the blade went flying, MacCready released himself from the door and looked for the blade to pick up. Meanwhile the rescuer was all over the Raider.

MacCready, looked over and saw his miracle turn into a nightmare. It was Deacon. Looking pissed with struggling grunts, but having full thrash of back and forth  pummeling to the face. MacCready ran up and shoveled his foot into the raiders chest. Both of them stopped. He had started bleeding and crawled away into a run, hugging himself and making a cowardly scream.

Both Deacon and MacCready looked at each other. MacCready allowed himself to not shake so bad in front of Deacon, but it was rising back up.

"You! Don't come near me!"

Deacon had blood on him and even as it was dark and rainy his shades were almost glued like to his face. But that wasn't what MacCready really cared about. He cared about why he was saved. If Deacon was who he really said he is or the stalker syndrome was strong with this one. He had an instinct to shove him, maybe into a wall and start wailing on him but he collected himself.

Deacon had put on a mocking voice.

"'Gee, thank you almighty Deacon, can I get your number' 'No please saving your ass was honestly my pleasure!' 'oh how I owe you so much!'"

"Son of a- rrr! Thank you!" MacCready placed on hand over his eyes and blew air through his nose.

"C'mon, I don't mean anything bad by it. I mean I could have let him-"

"I said thank you, I don't understand why or how you knew, but this is the last time we'll see each other!" He hugged himself after throwing his arms out open in quick rage.

"Listen alright, I'm... sorry." Deacon looked down at his knees, jeans bloodied and smudged in. The rain threatened to shower heavily again.

 MacCready's adrenaline just started to die off when Deacon looked away. He hated this situation. Almost mugged, maybe even murdered, then stalked again, feeling bad for his so called stalker, still being in the cold rain. He wasn't all _that_ mad _..._ but he felt like he should be. He _wanted_ to be mad but if Deacon really wasn't all that dangerous and risked his life for those brief seconds _maybe_ he wasn't completely absolutely life disturbing.

MacCready breathed in and laid against the brick wall. "I can't tell if you do this because you hate me and enjoy it when I suffer or like me and enjoy it when I suffer."

"I choose c. C is my final answer." Deacon raised his eye brows and smiled at an exhausted MacCready.

MacCready covered his face with both hands. "I'm dreaming. Yeah, that's what this is. All a dream."

MacCready felt soft weight blanket him. Deacon had wrapped MacCready in his expensive coat. MacCready looked at him, giving him a face of confusion. He was awfully close. Deacon's hands pulling the coat in, having them both be closer. MacCready didn't object. It was warm and suddenly a caring feeling. It smelled better and the fabric he was sure he had never felt something like it.

"I understand if you don't trust me, kindness is hard coming from the commonwealth, but I wanted to make sure."

"Well, yeah. I'm fine." MacCready's attitude had died out and a new level of adrenaline had replaced his blood. He had completely forgotten it was raining on both of them, but more on Deacon now that he was more exposed. 

"I don't actually want this to be the last time we see other." Deacon had interjected the silence of radiating his heat onto MacCready. "If you are willing to be a lot safer, I suggest you come and work for me." Deacon kept talking to add a sarcastic comment but drifted to a stop when MacCready's eyes locked into his. Deacon felt himself tense up, the eyes he so went crazy for froze him. Every time it dropped in his life all the confidence in him glitches up and his avant-garde mood slipped.

MacCready looked into Deacon's shades. Deacon had thought maybe they weren't there, as he felt his eyes pierced in such a perfect mirrored aim. They could count each others facial hair by how close they had gotten.

"I can't- How do I know _I_ won't get a stabbed in _my_ back?"

Deacon had made a small tug on the coat and pressed a kiss into MacCready. Close your eyes, Deacon begged in his mind. Close them or I can't stop myself.

MacCready did not close them. Deacon had felt his heart scream and thought it kamikazed into his stomach.  

"I actually need to stay here." MacCready pulled away to whisper. Deacon couldn't believe it. He was being told no again, but he didn't feel empowered. For some reason it had felt like being put second hurt, and for the first time. He didn't get to taste everything yet and MacCready had slipped by for the second time. Deacon felt like his own guard was down, feeling suddenly watched by all his anxiety thoughts that drove into his mind. The "What ifs" had been happening. 

"I'll let you think about it." Deacon had once again grasped weakly at being told no.

MacCready gave a look. Deacon had hoped to Atom he didn't feel sorry for him. He was supposed to be on top and be the hero of the day, not the kicked puppy. Deacon composed himself and started walking away from MacCready, he announced "Keep the coat! Everyone loves a good incentive..." 

MacCready watched Deacon leave behind the corner.

He was tempted to peak afterwards and catch him going but he felt to miserable and emotionally exhausted. The rain was coming to a complete stop and he had realized he was scuffing his heels in the puddle of rainwater. Red Rocket's neon sign died finally and his reflection had lost it's little visibility it had. The warmth no longer a caressing flood.

I need to stay here, MacCready reminded himself. 

MacCready pulled the coat to his face,it smelled like the cleanest thing on him and like a pompous lying jerk. His smell was the same as the taste though he figured but the feeling could not compare. He realized what he was thinking and trudged the way home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, So I moved to Orlando for yknow school and I want to update this every weekend but I also wanna study super suuuuper hard!  
> Wish me luck ;-;.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh ok thanks for looking oh gosh goodbye!


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